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Chapter 67

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    Morning and night are different, inside and outside the room are completely different.

    Although it has happened many times without realizing it, it doesn¡¯t feel real at all when I think back on it.  Intimacy is like a sexual dream, even if it happened, it is difficult to believe - this can probably describe the common feeling of two people seeing each other in the daytime.

    Wan Yun took back the feeling that men have very little.

    It¡¯s just an illusion.

    She is not used to her personal space being invaded by strangers. Similarly, Feng Jian doesn't like others collecting her belongings indiscriminately.

    So getting up every day is a hectic mess.

    Wanyun tidied himself up and had to interpret "my tie", "another sock" and "watch?" from Feng Jian's impatient eyes.  She needed to recall where she had thrown those things and then quickly hand them over.

    Feng Jian carried out the idea of ????killing the cook after eating enough, and asked with a serious face: "Do you like to put things around?"

    Wan Yun frowned and said, "I'm used to throwing away garbage."

    Feng Jian sneered: "Trash? Do you know how much this thing costs?"

    Wan Yun looked at him for a moment and said succinctly: "It may be expensive, but it must be ugly."

    Feng Jian stared at her. Before a new round of argument broke out, Wan Yun picked out a tie from the pile of ties that were no different from socks and put it on his arm.

    "You have five minutes left."

    While having breakfast, Feng Jian suddenly asked Wan Jin: "Wan Jin, are you interested in the company's official duties?"

    This question was so sudden that everyone at the dinner table was stunned.

    Wan Jin raised his head.

    Feng Jian thought to himself: "You are not too young, and you will soon be involved in the Li family like your second sister. From tomorrow on, you come to my office in the evening -" he mused, "I can't learn professional knowledge."  I teach you a lot. But you can get a basic understanding of practical things and the current situation of the company from me.¡±

    After his words fell, the restaurant fell silent.

    Wan Jin¡¯s eyelashes trembled violently.  He Long wiped his lips slowly, and just as he was about to speak, Feng Jian turned to Wan Yun again, frowned and said, "You should come with Wan Jin every time."

    Wan Yun¡¯s expression remained unchanged: ¡°I have my own things to do.¡±

    Feng Jian insisted: "There is no shortage of time."

    The curator threatened Wanyun in the same tone, but with more bravado.

    "If you don't come, I will only have this little time left in your life."

    In the curator¡¯s colorful life, the only thing more important than love is making money.  He and Feng Jian had a rare sympathy for each other on this point. However, the curator obviously thought that it was harder for him to make money than Feng Jian.

    ¡°At least I can¡¯t marry this client,¡± he complained.

    The client in the curator's mouth is the money owner who has the ability to hire him to paint a personal portrait and let the curator overthrow the original painting and recreate it for the eighth time¡ª¡ª

    There are many obsessed and wealthy fools in the world, and Wanyun is not very interested.  When the curator complained, she was in disinterest admiring other paintings in the mansion.  When the owner came out, the curator looked at her several times before she finally spotted the old man in the wheelchair.

    The other person's cancer is obviously in the advanced stage, his blue eyes are cloudy, the medicine on his body exudes the smell of sour rice water, and his whole breath is that of decay and death.

    Except when he talks.

    "I want to draw my first love." The old man said slowly, with the last hope in his eyes.

    They are all like this.

    Wan Yun has forgotten how many such people he has seen. As he gets older and his appearance fades, only the people in his memories will never fade.  When fantasy and reluctance reach a certain level, I want to imprint the past people intact and commemorate the beautiful words and smiles of the past.

    This time she heard the same clich¨¦d stories.

    Many years ago, a son from a rich family fell in love with an orphan girl from a poor family. However, his family was already engaged to him, so he was in a dilemma.  A few decades later, the old man's wife died and he had no income for the rest of his life.  Three months after he was diagnosed with cancer, he remembered his first love.

    "She is the only woman I have ever loved in my life. But a fire accidentally broke out a few months ago and the few photos were burned." The old man hesitated and said, "Actually, the portrait painted by Mr. Hu is very similar to the real person. However, I know that  She is not the person in the painting."

    The curator nodded repeatedly, and his face was serious even when it came to professional matters.

    "Well, it's always more difficult to paint a portrait by listening to oral description without a prototype. Don't be impatient, I will work hard to revise it."

    The patient nodded repeatedly.  At this time, he noticed Wanyun who was silent next to him: "Who are you?What are you doing here?  "

    The curator came to the rescue: "This is the art dealer with the best vision in the circle. You may not know that Wanyun's own sketches are unique and lifelike, but they never survive. This time, I specially brought her to help

    The old man still looked at her with distrust.

    Wanyun let him look at her.

    After a long silence, the old man's eyes finally softened, but he still asked provocatively: "If you want to sell your sketches to me at a high price, at least let me see what you are capable of."

    Wan Yun took out a pen and paper and said calmly: "The first time you saw her, what color was she wearing?"

    A few hours later, the curator followed Wan Yun unconvinced.

    "I can't believe it," he muttered. "I have been running around for a whole week because of this customer's harsh requirements. I have made several revisions and I am not satisfied, so I reluctantly used you. But after you listened to several of his descriptions, the two  In just a few hours, he can draw the person he wants. How do you do it? It¡¯s really a pity to see that old man crying while holding your painting."

    Wanyun massaged her hands without saying a word.

    The curator frowned and said, "He actually thinks your sketch is good, but I don't think there's anything wrong with my previous paintings."

    Wan Yun then spoke softly: "The curator's painting skills are fine, but the structure of a large oil painting will be too delicate, and the overall sense will be frivolous."

    The curator snorted coldly, but did not refute: "Forget it, I am still very lucky that your little finger is disabled and left me a way to survive."

    Wan Yun smiled and said: "The curator is too polite."

    After such a busy day, Feng Jian had already forgotten about Feng Jian asking her to go to the office.

    The workaholic has gone home today, and rarely does he go to bed on his own without making any move.  Wan Yun breathed an inexplicable sigh of relief. She was a little tired today, so after cleaning herself, she went to bed quietly.

    Just when I was about to fall asleep, I felt cold again.

    She raised her eyes with difficulty and found that most of the quilt under her body was about to be taken away again, and the rest was about to leave.

    Wanyun is so angry and funny.

    She remained calm, secretly exerting strength, and clenched the last corner of the quilt with both hands.

    The other party continued to tug a few more times and found that it was not moving, so of course he increased his strength.

    At this critical moment, Wanyun suddenly let go.

    There was a thump immediately behind him, and then a secret curse.

    Wan Yun stopped paying attention to him, pulled the quilt from Feng Jian's place, turned over and fell asleep.  (Remember the website address: www.hlnovel.com
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